Decode
by Enjie Yekcam
Summary: Someone is sending cryptic messages to Severus Snape, and Potter gets the blame. For that matter, Potter is acting very strange these days. What Severus finds is more complicated than he could possibly imagine. HPSS, AU


**Title: Decode**

**Summary: Someone is sending cryptic messages to Severus Snape, and Potter gets the blame. For that matter, Potter is acting very strange these days. What Severus finds is more complicated than he could possibly imagine. HPSS, AU**

**Author: Enjie Yekcam**

**Author's Notes: Thought this would be cool. Go nuts, guys!**

**Decode**

"…_.Amortentia is a love potion. When made, it gives off the smells that the smeller likes most. When someone drinks it, they grow fond feelings for the first person they look at._

_The ingredients in this potion…."_

Severus sighed. Another mindless, unsophisticated essay. He slashed through then entire thing with his red marker, placing a T on it and picking up another.

"_Amorntenya was used in the olden days to make women marry men they didn't want to."_

Severus groaned. He lit the paper on fire and picked up another one.

"_Despite popular belief, Amortentia is not a love potion. There is technically no such thing as a 'love' potion. If anything, Amortentia could be called a 'lust' potion, or maybe an 'infatuation' potion."_ This essay started.

Severus frowned. He knew this handwriting. The spiky loops, the spidery curves and straight-as-a-board letters were common to him for the last five years. This was Potter's essay.

Intrigued at such an opening, Severus kept reading. _"Love is much too powerful an emotion to be forced upon someone, and if someone were to try, it would be a serious infringement on one's freedom of choice."_

Much to Severus' surprise, the essay continued on this way, describing the way the potion smelled differently to each person, depicting what he or she loved most, and even incorporating facts about the recently deceased Lord Voldemort and his parents, as if trying to teach Severus a lesson.

To his horror, it was actually a _good _essay. Severus had to nitpick to give Potter his usual T grade.

What surprised Severus more than the general essay, however, was the small note at the bottom.

_How can this be relevant_

_Even the slightest?_

_Like I'm ever going to_

_Prepare something like this._

This made Severus' frown return. Potter must have written this. Even though the letters were extremely slanted, loopy and trying to appear nonchalant, no one could have written this but Potter. Severus cast a quick charm to make sure.

It was true. Potter had written both the essay and the quip at the end.

_That's odd. _Severus observed. _I wonder what he's up to. What is he playing at?_

With his usual arrogant smirk, Severus slashed through the poem-like note at the bottom with his red quill and wrote a note of his own at the top of the whole essay.

"**I do not appreciate any sort of information other than what I require. Your specific opinions on the subject are not necessary."**

Severus put the paper down and pulled up another.

"_Amortentia is a love potion. It makes the person who drinks it fall in love with the first person he or she sees. In some cases…."_

**XXXXX**

"Professor, what the _hell _is this?" Potter snarled the next time they met. He slammed the last essay down onto Severus' desk. Severus glared at the boy, staring into his emerald-green eyes, enjoying the heaving breath and angered look, ignoring the two friends waiting at the door for their Golden Boy.

"Twenty points for language." He sneered. He looked at the paper in question and raised an eyebrow. He remembered that one. "Do you have a question about the last assignment?"

"Yes." Potter growled. "Where in here did I put any sort of opinion? I remember working hard to keep that _out_."

Severus restrained from rolling his eyes, but it was a close thing. "Is your memory impaired, boy?" He barked. He snatched the essay and turned it to the bottom, pointing to the small note, now with a red stain crossed through it. "Does this not look like an opinion to you? Or is everything you say automatically a fact?"

Potter snatched the paper back and stared at the essay critically. His eyes widened and he shook his head, going a little pale. He turned around to send a pointed look at his two friends, who were by his side in an instant. They both looked over the paper and stared at Harry. The three began whispering in hushed voices, overlapping each other.

Severus grew annoyed. He did not enjoy being ignored, especially when it was the Wonder Brat and his troupe whining about their grades. He cleared his throat, loud enough for the Golden Trio to stop their conversation and glance at him.

Potter waved the essay at Severus. "I didn't write this."

Severus snorted. "You're a horrible liar, boy. Ten points away from Gryffindor for trying. I cast a charm; only _you _wrote on this essay."

Potter shook his head, ignoring the points lost. "Never mind. It's not important." Without even waiting to be dismissed, Potter turned and began walking away.

Severus stood from his desk. "I don't recall telling you that you were allowed to leave, Potter."

"I'd rather not wait that long." Potter retorted, leaving the class totally, leaving Granger to shut the door behind her as she was the last to leave.

Merlin, Severus hated that boy.

**XXXXX**

When they returned to Gryffindor Tower, Harry crumpled up the essay and chunked it across the room.

"Oh, Harry." Hermione crooned, following Ron into the room and sitting on the redhead's bed. "We didn't even notice."

"We're sorry, mate." Ron admitted. "You know if we had known, we would've—"

"Yes, yes," Harry interrupted him. At Ron's slightly hurt look Harry's voice softened. "I'm sorry for being so gruff; I just don't enjoy not remembering these things." He sighed, rubbing his forehead—the nervous habit he'd never lost even after he'd defeated Voldemort—and pacing the room. "They keep making me _forget _things."

"Is that the only essay that was affected?" Hermione asked.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Merlin, I hope so. Can you imagine what would happen if someone who actually _cares _reads something like this?"

Hermione held out a hand. "Give me your homework. I'll check over it for you."

Ron's hand also came out. "I'll look over your notes."

Harry stared at his friends. "Are you sure? It's _my _problem."

"It is and it isn't." Hermione explained. "We're your friends, Harry. We want to help you."

Harry sighed, but nodded and handed over his school bag.

"I think I'm going to write some letters." Harry stated, pulling out and old, worn out spiral from the middle and taking it to his own bed. "Tell me when you're done."

**XXXXX**

This time, out of total curiosity, Severus started reading essays from his sixth years first.

"_Veritaserum is a truth-telling potion. If someone drinks this potion, they are forced to tell the truth until it wears off." _

Unbelievable. Describing something as complicated as Veritaserum in such dull and simple words. How unoriginal. He corrected grammar and facts until finally placing a D at the top.

Then he skipped to Potter's essay.

It appeared that the boy had given up after his first attempt at a good essay. He probably figured that if he was going to go through much more work for the same grade, it was useless to try. Severus spent the next ten minutes pouring over every sentence and every fact, covering the essay with red marks.

After placing his usual T at the top, he glanced at the bottom. He was not disappointed.

_Honestly?_

_Even truth potions are no good._

_Lies are easy to tell._

_Particularly when the liar isn't aware that he's lying._

_Make of this what you will._

_Even "the most arrogant" want help. Need help. Deserve help._

Severus sputtered inwardly. What nonsense was this boy writing?

There had to be some catch. Casting the same spell, Severus deduced that it _had _to be Potter to write both the essay and the note at the bottom. Why would the Boy-Who-Would-Not-Die write something like this then _lie _about it?

Severus didn't know what was going on, but he was going to find out.

**XXXXX**

"Potter," Snape growled. Harry glanced up from his and Ron's potion—bubbling with a sickly green that was the _opposite _of the lipstick-red it should have been—and glared at his teacher. "Stay after class."

"Why?" Harry blurted before he could help himself. He bit the inside of his mouth. _Way to go, dummy._

Snape glared at him, the glare Harry had come to call the I'm-Going-To-Kill-You-If-You-Dare-Speak-Again Glare. Harry stared at him and refused to back down.

"Because I _said _so." Snape snarled back. "Twenty points for your cheek."

Harry opened his mouth to retort—he'd gotten good at mouthing back on his own lately—but Hermione nudged him.

"Don't do it." She whispered.

Harry simply rolled his eyes—making sure the Potion's teacher saw—and returned to his monstrosity of a potion.

"Ugh," Ron groaned. "We're going to fail this year." He glanced at the book. "There's no way we can turn this potion around."

Harry put the knife down and stared at his ginger roots—now positively pulverized into muddy-looking dust. He reached into his bag and pulled out his pen and his worn-out spiral, dubbed the _Letter_ _Book_.

"Harry," Ron warned, looking around to make sure no one was watching.

"I'm just asking a question." Harry insured. He opened the spiral to a blank page and began writing.

"_We're making a Wit-Sharpening Potion, but it came out wrong. What should we do?"_

Ron, who made sure to look like he was grinding up scarabs, focused on the _Letter Book_ as hard as Harry did.

Finally, Harry's hand began to move and wrote back, in a completely different hand.

"_It's not being hard to fix. You should be adding in three ground lilies and then stirring counter-clockwise three times."_

Ron sighed in relief, instantly setting out to rectify the situation.

Harry's hand began writing again, this time in a different writing as the last.

"**We've been watching you. Tell Ron he sucks at this."**

Harry laughed and Ron sputtered. "I'd say something back but I'm too grateful for the help."

And then the book was snatched from them.

**XXXXX**

Severus simply couldn't help himself. He knew that the two dunderheads had been floundering all period, and suddenly their potion looked as good as new, and they were joking around again. Granger, working with a Ravenclaw student, didn't look as if she had known about it. She hadn't helped them.

Who had?

Severus rounded over to the two, drawing Granger's eyes. He noticed that when she looked toward Potter and Weasley her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open, like she wanted to cry out a warning.

That was when he'd noticed the notebook.

Severus did not allow any type of books out other than their textbooks when potions were brewing. Before he took a second thought, he reached out and seized the book.

Potter cried out, then his face darkened and his eyes set hard on Severus, who held the spiral in front of him and examined it.

"I didn't appreciate that." Potter said darkly.

Severus glanced at the boy. "I don't appreciate people breaking my rules." He read down the page, at the notes written back and forth between different people. There were no names—but that was expected; students had learned quickly to not mention names so no one else would get caught—but there was plenty of information. And it'd been recent, judging by the last few notes and the boys' potion, which was looking good again. Severus hadn't seen Potter pass the spiral to anyone.

This reminded Severus of the boy's second year, with the Chamber of Secrets, and with that infernal book the girl-Weasley had been attracted to, that she could write in and it would write back. It had possessed her.

Was this what was making Potter do strange things? Was this book possessing him and writing things on his homework?

Somehow, Severus didn't think so. But the spiral still sent Severus' hackles up. His instincts were telling him that this book was important. He couldn't _feel _the Dark Magic on it, but it was probably too subtle to feel.

"Potter. Detention for a week," Severus declared. "For using Dark Objects."

"It's not a Dark Object." Potter snapped, his voice unusually sharp. "And it's _ours_."

Ignoring the looks of surprise throughout the class, and the painful-looking nails Ron was digging into Potter's arm, Severus and Potter held each other's gazes.

Severus waved his wand and Vanished the notebook, noticing a worse glower on Potter. "I shall keep this with me until I prove otherwise." He declared. "Now get back to work."

Satisfied with himself, Severus returned to his desk, ignoring the darkening angry stare following him in the form of green eyes. Severus had a good start on figuring out what exactly was up with Potter, and once he found out what about the notebook was messing with the boy's head, the sooner Severus could go back to failing him and not having to worry about bad things happening to the boy.

He was so satisfied he wasn't the least perturbed that Potter was the first out his door when class was dismissed.

**XXXXX**

That night, after throwing a fit in his rooms, Harry slept fitfully. He jerked around and tossed and turned, unable to run from his nightmares.

Ron was up, of course, his back propped up at the head of his bed. He sat with his legs crossed at the ankles and his knees drawn up to his chest. He was always up when Harry first went to sleep. He listened to the other two in the room sleeping deeply—nothing could wake Seamus or Neville when they slept but just in case, he'd put Silence Charms around their beds, like always—and tried to block out Harry's words and whimpers.

"What?" Harry murmured, tossing his head to the side. Ron shut his eyes and buried his face into his knees. "No, _no_, don't do that. Don't—What are you—stop. _Stop… _just…." Harry whimpered once, and Ron's nail drew blood from his arms as he gripped himself.

Harry threw himself up from his bed. "_Stop!" _He shouted.

He knew his friend was awake. He could hear the erratic breathing settling down.

"Ron?" Ron's friend called. Ron swallowed, tentatively standing and inching toward his friend's bed.

"Harry?" No answer, but that was expected. It was rarely _Harry _when he woke up like this. Ron tried again. "Jasper? Rhut?"

"Simon, actually." Came the small, child-like reply.

Ron sighed. Simon was the easiest to deal with. "Hello, Simon." Ron opened his friend's curtains and stared at him.

It still looked like Harry, as it always did. The lightning bolt scar still rested upon his head. But his eyes were distant and unfocused, and his grip tightened and relaxed on the sheets compulsively.

"It's still nighttime, isn't it?" Harry-Simon asked, his voice more high-pitched than was normal for the boy.

Sitting on the edge of the bed and pressing his friend back onto the bed and covering him up—his chest was bare and he was probably freezing wearing just sweatpants, Ron nodded, before laughing at the action that Simon would never see. "Yes. How could you tell?" Ron asked.

"I can hear the others snoring." Harry-Simon stated. "And it doesn't smell like morning."

Ron grinned. "You never cease to amaze me." He patted Simon on the hand. "Well, goodnight."

"No!" Simon made a grab in the direction he'd felt Ron's hand move. Ron allowed him to grasp his hand tightly. "Don't go. I'm already scared enough of the dark. Don't leave me alone. _Please_. Uncle always does, and I cry and cry for hours. He doesn't do anything."

Ron bit his lip. "All right, Simon. I'll stay."

Ron found himself a comfortable sitting position on Harry's bed and kept a hold on his friend's hand. "We're going to Hogsmeade tomorrow, you know."

Harry-Simon's face lit up. "Harry told me that! He promised he'd get me some Braille-Quills."

Ron nodded. "I remember him telling me that, too. It's the first thing to do on his list."

Simon went on, though his eyes bobbed up and down lazily. "He's such a cool person. I want to be just like him when I grow up."

Ron bit his tongue and changed the subject.

About ten minutes later—Simon never could stay awake long—Harry's eyes closed and his breathing evened out.

Ron sighed, peeling his hand away from Harry's and making his way back to his own bed. He cast his habitual charms—one to wake him if and when Harry woke, one for the alarm clock, and one to wake him if Harry was still asleep but left his bed (after the last accident like that, Ron wasn't taking any more chances)—and laid down in his own bed. It was unlikely that Harry would wake up again that night, but it had happened before.

Tomorrow, Ron decided, when they get to Hogsmeade, he was going to get Harry a new Letter Book.

**XXXXX**

**Okay, so the plot was going to be **_**totally **_**different. And it was **_**supposed **_**to be a one-shot. Not anymore, I guess. The plot caught me by the throat yesterday and dragged me along until this came out.**

**I hope this doesn't fall over and die. I like where this is going.**

_**Enjie Yekcam **_


End file.
